We can work it out

New smartphone means being able to post again. No more having to run to the desktop. Yeah, I said desktop. There have been baby steps in my technological advancement, so hopefully will there be a baby step in your entertainment.

I’m havin a bad bad day

Have you ever had to jump up in the middle of your lunch to get a screaming kid more to eat so you decide to get a fruit cup too and you can’t peel back the plastic because your hands are dirty so you try to use your teeth and it pops open and spills fruit juice down your shirt and into your bra cup and you don’t have any time to change or even clean yourself up because there’s a kid screaming for more food and another one that needs to be picked up from school on time or he will surely be emotionally traumatized and you already have a dog with abandonment issues so since you shouldn’t say a bad word really loudly or cry and since you’ve given up smoking to please someone else even though it was the only time you ever had to yourself and surely the most relaxing part of your day you have to just suck it up and stay with a sticky boob until you bring home one kid and put the other one to nap and THEN you can run upstairs to try and shower all the while praying and begging the older kid doesn’t burn the house down so you hurry the hell up because the sleeping child will only stay asleep long enough for you to literally step into the shower but not long enough for you to actually shower so you shower while one is screaming and one is turning up the cartoons on the tv and coming upstairs every two minutes to tell you his brother is screaming and don’t forget it’s time to make dinner and somehow get the laundry folded and more loads started?

Fucking hell.

When that sun is high in that Texas sky

What feels like forever but was really two weekends ago, we packed up The Monsters and drove south to San Antonio for Fiesta. “Fiesta?” you say? “As in a party?” Not quite. “As in an entire month of pageants and fundraisers culminating in a week of parades and parties and festivals? When parking restrictions and open container laws mean absolutely nothing? When asking to see a pretty girl’s shoes isn’t creepy?” Yup.

There is a historical side to Fiesta, however. It all began in 1890 as a singular parade put on by the Daughters of the Republic of Texas to honor the heroes of the battles of the Alamo and San Jacinto. Fiesta now stretches over 11 days with over 100 events, has a huge economic impact on the city of San Antonio and raises money for many charities and causes in and around the city as well. The Battle of Flowers Parade (where I took the above photo of The Joey) is second in size only to the Tournament of Roses Parade, and continues to be the only parade in the country organized and produced by women. Plus, it’s just awesome! 

When we (finally) made it to San Antonio there was just enough time to sleep until early the next morning, when we got up early to go to The Battle of Flowers Parade.

If you think I should look a little happier to be at the most awesome place in April, you’re right. I was miserable. As it turns out I am allergic to absolutely everything outdoors, most especially oak and pecan pollens, and grass. So springtime in San Antonio when it’s dry and windy and everything is coated in pollen and grass seed is not my friend. I took Benadryl and kept falling asleep behind my sunglasses sitting and waiting for the parade to start. Which is funny now because I’ve since learned that The Husband and my cousin Bucky kept talking to me only to find out I was asleep behind my sunglasses. Ha!

When was the last time you saw McGruff the dog?! I got a little excited, all those flashbacks to D.A.R.E. and all.

 

 

 

 

This is the army band. And what was so awesome was that they are playing tejano music! I will make a confession here: I still have no idea what they’re saying or anything, but something about San Antonio makes me love tejano music.

 

 

 

 

 

This is pretty much what San Antonio is like during Fiesta. Beautiful, tradtional and draped in flowers.

 

 

 

 

 

I’m still trying to figure out why only Miss San Antonio was driven in a low-rider.

 

 

This is one of the more traditional floats I saw in the parade. I wish the photo could translate the fresh, earthy sweet smell of the flowers as they passed by. It was just beautiful.

 

 

 

 

 

So then we got out the cascarones. Confetti eggs. And if you’ve never had the joy of cracking a dyed eggshell filled with paper confetti on the skull of your beloved cousins (shout out, R’s!), you’ve obviously never lived. The downside is that when you have insanely thick curly hair and you get that confetti in there because your aforementioned beloved cousins not only crack the shell on your skull but then rub it in you have to brush out your hair, immediately resulting in a Mexi-fro.

I didn’t take a picture of that.

Did I forget to mention that I had my wisdom tooth out the day before we left for San Antonio? I was so worried that I wouldn’t be able to eat all the yummies awaiting me down south, but it all worked out.

Except for the cerveza-ritas.

My cousins Bucky and Rae kept telling me and The Husband about some wonderful drink called a cerveza-rita. So since our grandmother was out of town* and we were staying there with The Monsters and Izzy the Wonder Dog alone, The Cousins brought over some liquor and beer and made Trey a cerveza-rita. Since I could neither drink through a straw nor ingest alcohol due to the wisdom tooth healing process, I just took the pictures of the cerveza-rita. I hope to have one soon. Very very soon. It wasn’t fair, and I may have pouted.

 

And that was just the end of day one.

 

*Who am I kidding? My grandmother would have probably pulled up a schooner with the rest of them. She’s kinda cool like that.

I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain?

So every year I begin the spring season with high hopes of beautiful flowers and herbs. I head out to Lowes or Wal-Mart or wherever and load up my cart with planters, planting soil and seeds. I get myself outside (a rare event in and of itself), I get dirty (an even rarer event) and I dig around in the dirt planting things. Sometimes I even sweat (the rarest event of all). I water my little planters of dirt every other day religiously. I watch some seedlings poke through and then I talk to it, watering it every day and relishing in its growth and maturation process.

Then summer comes.

It’s too hot. Blazing, irradiating, scalding heat. The faucet singes my hand when I try to fill my watering can. Sometimes I swear I can feel the hellfire and smell the brimstone of the hell that is Texas summer. So I’ll attempt to con The Joey into watering my plants for me because it’s summer and he wants to live outside. But, as it happens, he’s only five and is about as reliable as I am in the watering-the-plants department.

Every once in a while I go outside with him (slathered in sunscreen and praying to God I don’t start sweating) and I’ll notice the poor withering, wilted, curled-up Plants Of Death and Dying. I begin my most sincere and heart-felt apologies to the plants (yes, I talk to my plants), watering them and nursing them back to health. But the cycle begins again; I don’t water and the Plants of Death and Dying eventually just die.

Here are some pictures I just took in my backyard:

IN MEMORIAM:

These are the remains of my basil plant. I used to make awesome pasta sauce with the help of this guy. Basil, you will be missed. Trust that you will be remembered fondly and often.

Alyssum and four o’clocks. R.I.P.

Alyssum and sweet peas (the flower). Do not go gentle into that good night.

Sunflowers, I don’t know how I’ll get over you.

Out of all tragedy comes a renewed hope in life. New life brings with it a sense of completion, a fresh start. In this case:

Sunflower sprouts and clover!

I planted sunflower seeds two years ago. And I’m still getting sunflowers. It’s awesome. And I know clover is a weed, but those little yellow flowers are so pretty! Of course, I know nothing about plants and for all I know those little yellow flowers could be something else entirely. So here’s a better picture in case you can identify it:

All joking aside, I really want to try again. Yes, again. It’s spring and I’ve got planting fever. The Husband and I have been discussing transforming our driveway from this:

to a wonderful patio oasis. We recently bought a sandbox for The Monsters, we’re looking at and pricing out patio furniture, and our plan is to create a barrier around our driveway space with large planters (I’m still on the hunt, if you have any suggestions. I’m going to Garden Ridge this weekend.). Yes, planters! You know what that means, don’t you?!

I GET TO PLANT FLOWERS!

This year I’m getting ambitious and I’m going to plant herbs, too. I love to cook and I miss Basil. But I don’t have planters yet, and we’re still in the planning stages of The Great Transformation (aka The Driveway Project). So on a trip to Target this week (danger, checkbook, danger!) I impulse-bought a greenhouse. Here is a collage of what I planted today:

In this picture (and in my greenhouse) are Texas bluebonnets, parsley, sweet peas, basil, cilantro, oregano, rosemary and four o’clocks. The herbs are pretty self-explanatory. I chose bluebonnets because I love bluebonnets and I kinda miss being out in Hell and seeing a ton of them everywhere. I call The Joey “Sweet Pea” and I’ve tried to grow them every spring for three years now. Finally, I chose the four o’clocks because when The Elliot decided to make his entrance and my water broke, I looked at the clock and it was 4:05am. I really hope they come in! After that, I really hope I keep them alive!

The last time I tried to use one of the greenhouses everything just molded and I got really sick. Because I’m allergic to mold. But I thought I’d give it another go and added plant food to the dirt mixture all in the hope that I see some sprouts in the coming weeks. For now I’ll have to settle for this:

Who gives a fuck about an oxford comma?

I remember my first day of school.

My mom got me up and put me in my dress that matched my older sister's. I had a full breakfast and we took the obligatory pictures, smiling and super excited about going to kindergarten. We got in the car and started the drive to the elementary school.

And there were no crossing guards.

And no kids walking to school.

And no traffic.

And no cars in the parking lot.

Turns out it was the day before the first day of school.

My first day of middle school my mom's car wouldn't start so the neighbor dropped me off. I was super late for my first day of high school for some reason I can't remember.

The Joey's first day of school wasn't like any of that. We took him into the school and he never gave us another glance. There was another kid crying and The Husband and I thought the same thing (we found out later): he's going to think there's something to be scared of, so let's not make a big deal out of goodbyes. Which turned out to be fine because The Joey started talking with his teacher and got in line and never looked at us again. I looked at the teacher and said "Is that it?!" and she said "Well, I guess so!" We went into the room and dropped off his school supplies and the line started to move. There were other parents in the room and we all kinda followed them out. Then The Husband and I went to find the nurse's office to drop off his updated shot record minus the absurd chickenpox vaccine (more on that another time) and we kept running into The Joey and his class! We'd hide behind corners so he wouldn't know we were still there... not that he would have noticed. He was totally in his own world, so happy to be at school.

Two words summed up yesterday, at a level I didn't know I could reach: so proud.